Cooking in College

My parents celebrated their twenty-ninth wedding anniversary last night, and true to my family's form, the children (or "fruits of the marriage") were responsible for providing the feast. Typically this amounts to little more than picking up the check at whatever restaurant my younger sister and I can actually afford; however, this year my old man had something entirely different in mind.

"I want you girls to make us dinner," he declared, clutching a stack of cookbooks in his arms. "We fed y'all for years, and it's about time you return the favor."

Needless to say, the chicken was undercooked, the pasta a little too crunchy; my sister and I got overly ambitious with the dessert, but when the soufflé wilted like a sad, dying flower moments after removing it from the oven, my parents mercifully took us all out for ice cream.

Regardless of the ultimately happy ending, my experience in the kitchen was anything but pleasant. It's definitely a foreign environment to me - having a meal plan throughout all four years of college has certainly contributed to my utter lack of culinary skills, but I honestly think apathy is far more to blame.

I have several friends who swear they subsist entirely off of Ramen noodles. One of my best friends is on a first name basis with the staff at our local Whataburger. This one girl I vaguely know continuously posts pictures of food she makes on Facebook - I believe her diet consists exclusively of cupcakes.

Now that I'm staring down the barrel of the gun called Graduation, it's beginning to dawn on me that I'll soon be forced to fend for myself. Everyone tells you that the four (plus...) years of college fly by in a flash; NOBODY warns you that afterwards, you have to suit up, become an adult, and most importantly, feed yourself.

So, readers, what the heck do I do?! Do y'all know of quick, easy, and especially CHEAP recipes I can make a mess of in my post-grad kitchen? Does anybody have any similar nightmarish experiences with cooking?

Culture and The Common Man

As I finish up this blog post, my friends are scurrying to pack their bags, load up the cars and set out for The Great Unknown (well, the campsites of Lake Bryan, if we're being honest here). We're taking a few days to "get away from it all;" we're ditching the turmoil of the big city we call College Station and shacking up in the woods to rest and reset.

We certainly aren't the first batch of kids to look to nature for stress-relief and inner restoration. This Romantic notion has influenced many artists, writers and thinkers who also needed a break from the commotion we tend to create in our everyday lives.

But as we go brawling through the backwoods, I can't help but reflect on the ways that nature has been brought into the limelight of contemporary culture, as well. It seems as if modern TV is turning back to its roots and discovering its rougher side. Redneck Couture has caught on like wildfire; shows like "Duck Dynasty" and Jeff Foxworthy's "Blue Collar Comedy Tour" showcase all the fun to be had  in our own backyards, with our own power tools and fireworks.

This homegrown, good-ol'-boy upsurge thumbs its nose at the likes of Kim Kardashian and her clones; however, we still see this culture manifesting itself in the same consumable ways that other television fads have. Trucker hats proudly emblazoned with "John Deere," rhinestone-studded cowboy boots, flashy rims on pick-up trucks - although blue collar may claim to be different, it cannot escape becoming commercialized.

We're headed to the woods to remind ourselves that we don't need fur-lined tents to keep out the cold winter winds (although, hey, that does sound pretty nice). Flashlights from The Dollar Store will shine just as brightly, and you definitely don't need a gilded lighter to set things on fire.

What do you guys do to get away from it all and unwind? And, if I'm not back in class next week, can you make sure my friends and I haven't been eaten by bears?